I'm a Vampire at War On Halloween

I’m a Vampire…At War on Halloween

By

Jackie Rose

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I'm a Vampire, At War on Halloween Copyright © 2006 Jackie Rose Coverart by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books 2006 Look for us online at www.extasybooks.com

That batty bunch you first met in “I’m Undead and I Vote” is back...both sillier and sexier than ever. This time, Count Dracula himself is on the prowl…determined to finish the holiday fun and put the Hell back in Halloween. But first, he must face a two feuding TV talk show hosts…his nagging mother…and, oh yes, his growing passion for a history teacher who knows his sad true story. Along the way, he’ll find lots of the other crazy creatures you have met in this best-selling series. They include the first undead activist…her friend the fierce were-Maltese…and the country’s be-witching First Lady.

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween

I'm a VAMPIRE… At War on Halloween larmed by all those stories she had seen in the Bucharest Post, Mariutza Tepes had come all the way from Romania to see for herself if that famous American Halloween was as bad as she feared. She had soon learned that it was even worse. No wonder the poison was even infecting her native country, where good Romanians were holding costume parties on the unholy night. But even that was nothing like this outrage. Children in their cute little vampire outfits…black capes for the boys and flowing white gowns for their little girl friends…were seen knocking on doors and begging for treats, in a cascade of candy commercials. They received it in pretty packages, which the TV advertisers had decorated for the season. Such practices had made Halloween the year’s second biggest spending holiday, thus turning the 1

Jackie Rose un-holiest day of her calendar into an orgy of crass commercialism and, even worse, family fun. Two weeks before the big day, the shopping spree was already in high gear. Walking into Tyson’s Corner shopping center, she had seen the central courtyard draped in fake black cobwebs supporting giant grinning purple plastic spiders. Their big pink idiot grins and vacant blinking blue eyes were obviously designed to make sure that not even the most sensitive adults would be frightened away, while shopping for costumes, plastic Jack-o-lanterns, scary music and movies and those awful candy packs to give away to the children who came to their doors. For the occasional male shopper’s sake, a shapely young witch in a mini-skirt was stirring a kettle. Fake trees had been added, with a painted night sky behind them. The cauldron, of course, filled with more things to buy. But even this was hardly the worst of it. Mariutza had to blink her own brown eyes in disbelief, to be sure she was not imagining the sordid scene taking place between Hecht’s and Lord & Taylor. But, no…that really was supposed to be Dracula, with his flowing black cape, plastic white fangs and all…taking his place beneath the toy tarantulas. Of course, he was a fake, she realized. No real vampire would have worn that ridiculous outfit. 2

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween He was sitting on the throne that Santa Claus would occupy a few weeks hence, as though there were no difference between the two characters. Even worse, the children were standing impatiently in line with their parents, waiting for their chance to sit on the vampire’s lap, just as though it were St. Nick’s. Two smiling young ladies in flowing white gowns and black wigs were guiding the little visitors there. Mariutza had no doubt that those ladies would dress up as Santa’s elves in a few weeks’ time, without changing their cheerful expressions. “And who do YOU want to be for Halloween, young lady?” As Mariutza walked by them, she heard him asking that very question, in a very bad Transylvanian accent. “I wanna be Cinderella,” the moppet replied. “Cinderella!” he exclaimed more loudly, to be sure the little girl’s mother would hear. That lady beamed and nodded happily, now that she knew exactly what costume to buy at the temporary holiday shop nearby. Not that Mariutza blamed the woman. She knew, from her own very long experience, about a mother’s natural desire to make her children happy. For that reason, she took pride in the title they had given her… 3

Jackie Rose The mother-in-law of all vampires! So she naturally had to teach the world to respect her children’s heritage. Enough of this happy holiday! Somehow, she would find a way to put the Hell back in Halloween. Wasn’t that TV commentator Bill O’Reilly always complaining about the War on Christmas, which was making his most holy day into a shopping spree? Well, wait until she started her own War on Halloween. And her favorite son was just the one who could lead it. **** If she also had a least-favorite son, he was sitting at the Romanian ambassador’s desk right now, with her least-favorite-daughter-in-law perched upon it. His four previous brides had been among her first daughters-in-law. While she had never completely approved of them, they now seemed perfection itself compared to his current bride, who was actually his lawfully wedded wife! Hearing the shocking news that they were actually married, Mariutza had taken to her coffin in sheer humiliation. But thanks to that dreadful American girl, her younger son now had no shame at all. In fact, he definitely seemed to be the 4

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween white sheep of the family. **** “Black and orange crepe paper streamers up there, of course,” Tiffany was saying. Her right leg jiggled a mile a minute with her usual restlessness, as she pointed a long white finger at the ceiling. “But the children, and their parents, can see those things anywhere,” her husband objected, shaking his curly black head. “They are coming here to see the Romanian embassy. And,” he added, with some disapproval, “You expect them to pay very well for the privilege.” “It’s all to benefit PUMA,” she replied. He nodded briefly, to show his respect for People United for Mercy to Animals. “You know that Constantin and Ingrid are coming all the way from Transylvania, to ask the children to trick-or-treat for PUMA,” she went on. “Even the First Lady, the First Daughter and our first openly undead congressman will all be here, to help promote the cause. Of course, Mrs. O’Neill will also be eager to promote her own pet charity, black cat rescue.” “They also want to show what good citizens the paranormal minorities are,” he muttered. “Especially with an election coming up.” The first family indeed represented several PM’s, since the 5

Jackie Rose First Lady was a witch, her daughter was a banshee and her son- in-law was the nation’s first openly undead congressman. “I still think that our were-guests will be the stars of the show,” his wife went on. “They will appear at just the right time, so that the guests…and the media…can see them transforming into a really impressive giant werewolf and an adorable little white wereMaltese. The First Lady will probably change a black cat into an important political figure, too, for the occasion. A good Democrat, of course.” Noting the glare of disapproval in Count Victor’s piercing black eyes, she hurriedly went on, “I know we should not interfere with local politics, but it is all for a worthy cause…not to mention creating good will towards Transylvania. Isn’t that your job, as ambassador?” “I suppose,” he admitted rather sullenly, drumming his powerful long white fingers on the massive mahogany desk. “But it all seems so…American.” “Exactly!” she crowed. “The great Transylvanian heritage has inspired a great American holiday. What better way could we possibly have to show the contributions that our country has made? And it IS my country now,” she assured him hastily. “I may have been born here in America, but I am now as Transylvanian 6

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween as…as…” “Orange and black crepe paper streamers,” he muttered. “Well, even if we decide to hang them up around the entrance hall, we won’t have any here in my study.” He glanced around at the wood-paneled walls and marble fireplace, as though to suggest how completely inappropriate those tacky decorations would be. “I am still a good Transylvanian boy. Or perhaps I should say a bad one.” “You look as American as I do,” she told him in a flattering tone. “In fact, you are an undead ringer for David Boreanaz, and he’s an American star. He was not really a vampire, of course, but he played one on TV, and here that’s even more important. Or perhaps I should say that he looks like you.” “No one looks more American than you do, with those red curls and freckles. Hardly like a vampire at all.” “And what does a vampire look like?” she demanded in outrage. “Saying that someone looks like a vampire, is like saying that someone else looks…” Rather than starting this argument again, he reached out and stopped her leg from jiggling. Those same fingers were soon sliding up slowly from her ankle to her calf to her thigh. They pushed up her short navy skirt and gently pressed 7

Jackie Rose the tangled red curls beneath it, which were damp and warm to welcome him. Then his middle finger entered the opening beneath them, circling it ever more quickly until she was gasping and writhing. Standing, he quickly pushed the inkstand and papers onto the floor, as he pressed her down onto the desk. **** When they walked out of the Tyson’s Corner restrooms, few heads turned to look at them. It was almost Halloween, after all, so the shoppers assumed they were part of the entertainment. If the onlookers thought any further about the couple at all, it was only to wonder why such a strikingly attractive woman was with such an outrageously un-attractive man. His costume enhanced his natural homeliness. It was topped by a ridiculous red velvet cap with a jeweled headband. They called even more attention to the long, pointed nose, which almost met his chin. Almost as unflattering, his curly black moustache pointed outwards, meeting the black ringlets that fell to his sloping narrow shoulders. They seemed weighted down by his bearskin coat, thus completing the incredibly unimpressive effect. Obviously realizing as much, his companion 8

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween hissed, “Stand up straight!” but in vain. She herself boasted truly impressive posture, among other things. Her black curls fell to her white clinging gown in a very flattering way. Her thin red lips, high cheekbones and ivory complexion added to her natural…or unnatural…charms. For the few fathers in the audience, her high, firm bosom, slim waist and rounded hips didn’t hurt, either. For whatever reason, the crowd parted as the newcomers stalked to the throne. As they approached, the actor who was already sitting there, in a black cape and whiteface makeup, said in a rather uncertain tone, “Good evening, I am Dracula.” “Oh, no, you are not,” the newcomer answered, in a deep, frightening voice. “You are not even an Undead American, let alone a true Transylvanian vampire, or you would not be wearing that ridiculous suit. I AM Dracula. Begone!” After trying, for a moment, to face those deep, burning, glaring black eyes, the performer fled. Only then did the audience notice that the actor had been at least a foot taller than the challenger who had driven him away. Then it was the children’s turn to face that terrifying stare. “You call me Dracula!” he told them. “But my true name is Vlad Tepes…Vlad the Impaler!” 9

Jackie Rose The crowd gasped in awe and amazement, until one of their number spoke up. “’Dracula’ merely means ‘Devil,’” a rather chubby red-haired mother told her son calmly, obviously eager to turn this Hellish encounter into an educational experience. “Or more literally, ‘Dragon.’” “So tremble with terror before me!” Devil-orDragon added, while trying to ignore her interruption. “I have risen from the dead once again…to put the Hell Back in Halloween!” He glanced at his female companion anxiously and seemed relieved when she nodded approval. With this encouragement, he glared much more fiercely as he turned to the children again. They stared back in awe. He spread his thin red lips in a snarl. Their own little mouths opened wide in amazement. Equally stunned, their parents and nannies tried to embrace them with protective arms, only to be shrugged impatiently away. Finally, a chubby ten-year-old managed to speak. “Sweet!” he exclaimed. “Did you really impale all those men on wooden stakes?” “Well, perhaps not ALL of them,” he muttered. “You can’t believe everything you read.” His companion’s voice soared over his. “Every one,” she told them firmly. “And he did other things that I would not even mention in front of 10

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween the little ones. And as for what he does to the women even nowadays…” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “He makes them wear their new clothes without cutting off those scratchy tags and forces them to listen to all the telemarketers who call during dinner.” Every adult shuddered at the thought. “Thank you, Mother,” he said, with obvious resentment. “But I ask you, children…how would YOU feel if everyone…even your very own mother…called your brother Radu the Handsome?” “I could see how that might make you feel hostile,” the plump lady conceded. “I’d often wondered about that myself.” “My mom is a history teacher,” her son told them proudly. “That’s how she knows that Vlad Tepes was the real name of Dracula, which only means Devil or Dragon, and his kid brother was Radu the Handsome. She told me all about it before we came here. She would not tell me what he did to the women, though, so I had to look it up on the Inter…” “Please, little boy!” Mariutza responded urgently. “There MAY still be some INNOCENT children here, and you will frighten them!” “Can I have your autograph, Mr. Tepes…I mean, Count Vladimir?” an even smaller moppet put in hopefully. She, too, was obviously far from 11

Jackie Rose the frightened category. Clearly, this was not going as Mariutza had planned. The downward spiral continued when another mother, who had left the group unnoticed, came racing back with the mall manager and two security guards in tow. “What is going on here?” the executive demanded. “Where is our Dracula?” “He is gone,” Vlad answered, doing his worst to suggest that the imposter had, in fact, vanished forever. “I am the real Dracula!’ As usual, his listener was not impressed. “You aren’t even dressed right!” the manager accused. “Where are your fangs and cape?” “Actually, his costume is completely authentic,” the teacher assured him, stepping forward. “I should know. I am Ellen Reinecke, and I teach advanced European history at James Buchanan Prep School. I brought my son Luther here to meet Dracula, but I never thought he’d see someone who looked so close to the real thing.” Their relationship was obvious, and not just from the way she spoke to the boy. Mother and son shared the same round, pink, plump faces and red-blond hair. Her profession was just as obvious, and not just from her teacher-like tone. The long green-andpurple paisley skirt, with its coordinated purple turtleneck, also conveyed a definitely school12

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween marmish effect. At the same time, it served to camouflage her more-than-ample lower body while outlining her equally generous bosom, showing that she had spent some time studying the best way to dress to advantage. Just as the mall manager was about to protest again, she added firmly, “He is giving the youngsters an educational experience…not just an entertaining one. You can be sure that I will tell all my students to come meet him…and bring their younger siblings, too. “And you, Count Vladimir,” she said, turning her light blue eyes on his burning black ones, “it was so good of you to come here and help bring history alive for these youngsters. We have many re-enactors here in Virginia, but they usually focus more on the Civil War. Are you an Undead American yourself?” “He is not a re-enactor, and he is not an American anything!” his mother hissed. “He is Dracula! Or, rather, Count Vladimir Tepes. And he is not here to educate…but to help us fight in the war that your society has declared on the true meaning of Halloween…which is to tremble before the forces of evil.” On those last few words, she thrust her slim arms dramatically into the air, in a manner that was obviously intended to induce trembling.

13

Jackie Rose **** At the same time, her voice rose high enough to be overheard by another woman, who paused on her way into the maternity shop. If it had not been for the scene taking place on the platform beneath the giant plastic purple spiders, this onlooker would have attracted a good-sized crowd herself. As it was, several heads turned in her direction as Cassandra Bailey approached the crowd. Several more lips moved to mutter the words, “Dueling Duo.” She was, indeed, the co-host of that celebrated weekly debate program…more vulgarly known as a Sunday shout show…along with her husband, Buck Patrick. They were guaranteed to differ violently on almost every issue. If she did get interested in this War on Halloween thing, she mused, then their tempers and ratings were both sure to rise. Just look how well Bill O’Reilly had done, with that War on Christmas. **** “We are having the Ambassador and Ambassadress of Transylvania on our show this week,” Cassandra Bailey said, as the camera obediently scanned their faces. “We also have his 14

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween brother and mother here tonight. Our guests will debate the true meaning of Halloween. Turning to Victor and Tiffany, she said, “This couple has a very positive view of the modern holiday…that it’s another way for us to celebrate a different culture. Like St. Patrick’s or Columbus Day, only Transylvanian rather than Irish or Italian.” This threw Mariutza into a towering rage. “That is exactly the sort of thing we are fighting against!” she cried. “Is that the reason for your War on Halloween?” Buck Patrick’s question seemed to be innocence itself, just like the look of curiosity covering his beefy red face. His wife, however, was not trying to hide the disgust she felt at his phony bewilderment. It showed on her thin pursed lips as she shook the golden tresses that fell to her shoulders. “Clearly,” her expression said, “he is trying to make trouble and he is sure to succeed.” “What do you mean by a War on Halloween?” he asked, in the same bewildered tone. “I mean, isn’t it the second biggest commercial holiday in America, following only Christmas?” “That is just what we object to!” the Romanian lady exclaimed, her black eyes flashing in rage. “They have turned our most sacred, special day into a vulgar spending spree…with phony 15

Jackie Rose Draculas and witches wearing mini skirts in the shopping centers, urging the children to ask for cheesy costumes. And now the adults are buying even more expensive outfits for their own parties. This is not what Halloween should be.” “And what should it be in YOUR opinion, Count Vladimir?” their host inquired, turning to the guest on his right. “Sit up straight!” Vlad’s mother hissed, as he started to reply. He responded by squaring his shoulders for a moment, before they inevitably slumped again. “A night to tremble before the forces of evil,” he replied, in his most menacing tone, in his thickest Romanian accent. He was obviously about to say more, when his host turned to the left and asked his other male guest, “I believe you would like to answer him, Mr. Ambassador?” Victor Vyrdelek needed no urging to sit up straight. Beneath his leather blazer, his broad shoulders were already spread out in a way that would have done justice to a Redskins linebacker, as he glared down at his slouching opponent. Noting this, Vladimir’s mother once more hissed at her eldest son to, “Sit up straight!” with even less effect this time. “Halloween is a day when all Americans can enjoy our cultural traditions,” Victor said. “What traditions?” his mother burst in. “When 16

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween do you follow our traditions? You had four brides, as a vampire should, and they were luring men who, in turn, lured women who…well, how do you think we became a big enough minority group to swing your presidential election, with your famous motto, ‘I’m Undead and I Vote.’ And now you even have a vampire running for governor in Minnesota, with the Vampyres, Witches and Pagans Party.” At this point, your author must apologize for that last statement. It is so completely unbelievable, it could only have happened in real life. If you still don’t believe me…for which I can’t blame you…look up “Jonathan Sharkey.” And now back to our story. “Not, of course, that I think we should be interfering in foreign politics,” the countess dowager added hastily, as she glared across at the red-haired ambassadress and her too-short navy skirt. Her own filmy, clinging white gown was actually much more revealing, but that, too, was part of her heritage. “What do you mean, foreign?” Countess Tiffany Vyrdelek demanded. “I was born and died right here in the USA! I am proud that I was able to rally my fellow Undead Americans. Before I married the Romanian ambassador, of course.” “And what have you undead-Americans done to our vampire traditions?” Mariutza demanded. “Instead of four brides, my younger son now has 17

Jackie Rose only one wife. And what are the others doing? “Crina and Ylenia now have…” she dropped her voice as though uttering an obscenity before she added, “husbands! What’s worse, all four are following…” her tone was even lower, as she rasped, ‘careers!’ A Realtor, a Secret Service agent, a hair stylist and a wedding pianist…where is our heritage in that? My younger son did not even invite me to the embassy when I thought directly at him that I was coming here. What tradition was he following there?” “I knew you would throw that up at me,” Victor muttered, slouching back in his chair, while his own foot started to jiggle. “That’s why I didn’t answer!” Ignoring his protest, she went on, “I sold my soul to the devil, so my sons could have…and give…eternal life…and this is my reward?” “At least you can’t add that I’ll be sorry when you’re dead, since you never will be. That’s Tiffany’s mother’s line.” “The ambassador is your younger son?” prompted Cassandra, who was still enough of a journalist to pick up on a news item when she heard it, even when it was buried like a jewel of truth in a pile of family feuding. “Yes, indeed,” Mariutza muttered. “He is the one whom everyone called ‘Radu the Handsome.’” 18

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “I see the resemblance,” the newswoman answered tactfully. Indeed, both males had the same thin red lips and black curls. The difference was, Count Victor’s hair was cut so carefully, it seemed completely casual, as though the wind had blown it that way. And his lips appeared between a strong, tapering chin and a nose that was perfectly straight. He looked, in short, like David Boreanaz and would, indeed, have been Radu the Handsome, even if he had not invited constant comparison with his older brother, Vladimir the anything but. Nor were that red velvet cap, the bearskin cloak and those dangling curls doing anything for the count. Able to read the studio audience’s thoughts, Vlad knew that they were not flattering to him. His mother did, too. “Looks aren’t everything,” the mother-in-law of all vampires replied, with a lack of tact that was common to all mothers everywhere, of every species. “Our Vladimir follows our customs.” “Was he doing that when he impaled his enemies alive?” her daughter-in-law demanded. “No one ever even accused Radu—I mean, Victor—of doing such a thing.” “No one ever made him feel small and insignificant, as I always felt beside him,” Vladimir sniffled in reply. 19

Jackie Rose “That’s because you are!” his brother snapped. “There, you see?” their mother demanded, turning towards the audience in triumph. “We have thrown tradition aside…with younger brothers having no fear or even respect for the older ones…and you see what has happened to our family life. That is one reason why we are demanding…put Hell Back in Halloween.” “And we want everyone to go right on enjoying our holiday, as the happiest day of the year…or the second happiest, anyway,” her daughter-inlaw flared back at her. “That’s why our new greeting will be…will be…” obviously thinking frantically, she suddenly burst out, “Happy Halloday!” Buck Patrick was certainly happy, as he poured fuel on the fire by asking, in his most courteous tone, “Is that H-a-l-l-o and then d-a-y? Well, that certainly sounds like something that our own little George or Martha will enjoy.” He smiled fondly at his wife, who was seated beside him. She glared in outrage in response. “George and Martha?” she demanded. “We’re having Franklin or Eleanor.” She glanced at the Countess Vyrdelek for support. Good liberal though she was though…and raised to revere the sacred names of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt…the red-haired undead-American barely heard her hostess’ 20

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween appeal for aid. Tiffany was too engrossed in arguing with the dark-haired vampire-ess. “Happy Hallo-day?” her mother-in-law was all but shrieking. “What sort of thing is that? Are you ashamed to call it Halloween?’ “Aren’t you ashamed to talk about putting Hell there, so that no one but you can enjoy it?” Mariutza turned to her favorite son, but he, too, was otherwise occupied. “Vlad the Impaler!” that son’s younger sibling was snarling, leaning forward so suddenly that the older brother jumped. “If you ask me, the only way you ever impaled any man, was straight up the…” “For God’s sake, go to commercial!” the producer howled. He had snuck a cross into his pocket, to hold up if his distinguished undead guests got out of line…but it would not be any use to him against the FCC. Not that he much wanted to use the cross, or anything else, to keep that Mariutza Vyrdelek away. He had always gone for that dark, exotic, foreign type. She sure looked great for 595 years old. In fact, she would have looked pretty darn good for 35. Obviously, getting the Dark Kiss was better than Botox. If only it hadn’t been for that Hell-in-Halloween thing. He would not have minded that she was a vampire…but he knew enough to stay away from 21

Jackie Rose radicals of any extremist undead.

persuasion…including

the

**** If the undead were silent during the daytime, their graves spoke volumes for them. By the next sunrise, cemeteries throughout the country were dotted with some signs saying, “Happy Hallodays, everyone!” and others calling for the reader to” Put the Hell Back in Halloween.” Even the American Association of Deceased Persons was split right down the middle in deciding which motto to use. Clearly, the war over the holiday had begun in earnest, and it was making the famous War on Christmas look like a mild argument. **** “Sweet!” Vlad lamented, as he sat across the rickety kitchen table from his mother in their rented crumbling mansion. It dated back only 200 years, which made it “new construction” as far as they were concerned, but it was the best they could do. “That chubby little child said that Vlad the Impaler was ‘Sweet!’” he howled. “Obviously, he did not believe that I was whom I claimed to be…any more than his mother, the teacher did.” Gazing at his own parent mournfully, he demanded, “How can we put the Hell Back in Halloween if people are not afraid of us, because 22

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween they don’t know who we are?” Bitterly, he added, “They think we are, at most, merely two more Undead Americans.” Both shuddered at the term. “They should be taught to fear you,” she answered. Her own great eyes glowed the exact same shade as Lancome Red Stiletto, thus matching her favorite lip color, as she added, “Perhaps that schoolteacher will learn to do it, when she feels your fangs in her throat.” His own eyes glowed positively True Red by L’Oreal, as he reveled in the thought. Then he shook his head, making the black ringlets bounce on his shoulders. “We cannot do it, though,” he said. “Vampires here can only bite consensually. That’s their law. And that’s why we are reduced to this!” He pointed down balefully at the pewter mug of cold plasma, which was purchased by the carton from starving e-book authors. Even worse, most of them drank so much coffee, he could taste it all night and then lay awake all day. With a wave of her pointed fingernails, which were also painted Red Stiletto, she dismissed this objection. “Law, law!” she exclaimed. “What will the law do to you, when you have drained enough blood to leave her weak with longing for you? Soon the men will feel the same about her, especially if she loses some weight. She will be our test case of 23

Jackie Rose your powers!” He smiled for a moment at that. In his excitement, his eyes still matched his naturally crimson lips. Then they faded to a more human color as he said, with a sigh, “But she is much bigger than I am.” “So is almost everyone,” his mother reminded him. “That’s why you must sit up straight.” **** “Of course we are still going to the Transylvanian embassy for the Happy Hallo-day,” Evelyn O’Neill, the First Witch, assured her daughter Maeve, the First Banshee. “I hope that you and George can make it, too. Naturally, I will bring my bodyguard.” Saying this, Mrs. O’Neill tossed back her blond hair as she turned from the Lincoln Bedroom phone to smile briefly at her Secret Service protector. Ylenia was especially looking forward to the occasion because she was a native Transylvanian vampire. It would be like old times for her. Very old, in fact. Seventy-five years, to be exact. “We wouldn’t miss it,” Maeve replied. “We can’t let this controversy ruin the evening, especially when it is for such a worthy cause.” “Certainly not,” her mother assured her. “But it 24

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween has given me some question about our greeting cards for the season. ‘Happy Halloween’ does not seem quite right any more…but “Put Hell Back in Halloween’ is obviously out of the question…and even ‘Happy Hallo-day’ is too controversial for the paranormal minorities nowadays.” She did not have to mention that her fellow PN’s were the only ones who would be getting this particular greeting card. “We’ve been having the same problem,” answered the First Daughter. “But George has thought of something that would cover every occasion. How about, ‘Happy Fall and Winter Holidays?’” “That’s a wonderful idea!” her mother exclaimed. “It would also take care of Veteran’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa and New Year’s. That should satisfy everyone!” **** Of course, it did no such thing. “Now they are not even mentioning our holiday,” Tim Johnson protested to the media, on the set of his latest action thriller, “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Vampire III.” Clutching the First Lady’s greeting card theatrically in his powerful brown fist, he exclaimed, “’Happy Fall and Winter 25

Jackie Rose Holidays’? This really IS a War on Halloween!” **** As in any war, both sides battled to win the hearts and minds of the young. Ellen Reinecke was therefore not very surprised when Vlad Tepes called to offer to address her advanced history class. “I will explain the real meaning of Halloween,” he told her. “As my son would put it, that would be sweet,” she assured him. “I would like to come visit you to discuss my presentation,” he added, in a more hesitant tone. “That would be cool, too.” “So I will be welcome at your home?” “You certainly will!” “Then that’s…sweet!” **** “Of course, we also want to hear the other point of view,” Mrs. Reinecke said, in her next call. “I phoned the Transylvanian embassy because I hope you can send someone to me. Count Vladimir is coming to my home tomorrow evening, to discuss his presentation, and your, er, person is more than welcome to visit whenever he 26

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween pleases.” “Oh, really?” Countess Tiffany answered, and was grateful that her caller could not see that her eyes now resembled A Different Red by Clinique…or, alternatively, her Nantucket Red pattern handbag by Vera Bradley. Those were her two favorite products, since both avoided animal cruelty. “Well, I’ll see what I can do.” I certainly will, she assured herself. I will save your victim from becoming your next bride. And it’s a good thing for her that you have welcomed us into your home to do it, because we could not have gone there otherwise. **** When Ellen Reinecke invited Vlad Tepes into her home, she assumed that he would walk through the door. Therefore, she was startled to see him bobbing up and down in front of the bedroom window instead. While she could not, in fact, stop herself from jumping with fear, she did manage to avoid taking her comb and brush set from the bedside table and forming them into a cross. Hoping that he had not noticed that very inhospitable reaction, she hastened to unlatch the window and fumbled to raise it. As he bobbed into the room, the cheery red-and-yellow checked 27

Jackie Rose curtains covered his face, so he had to fight free of them. Trying to ignore that embarrassing moment, he stood staring at her with bulging eyes. “Are you trying to hypnotize me against my will?” she whispered. “No,” he answered. “But you are still wearing your bathrobe.” “Oh!” she exclaimed, before she hastily pulled the white terrycloth sash tighter and raised the collar to her neck. The effect was to outline her ample curves, making him gaze even more ardently. She could feel her face turning even pinker as a result. “Well, then, why don’t you go wait in the living room while I get dressed?” “Is Luther waiting for us there?” he asked, rather miserably. “No, he’s with his father for the weekend.” “You are divorced,” he told her. “You sound shocked about that.” “Well, in my day, it was very shocking.” Just in time, she stopped herself from asking indignantly if it was any more shocking than being a vampire, not to mention the Vlad the Impaler thing. He was her guest, after all, and he was here for a business meeting. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she assured him briskly. “So you go wait out there and I’ll be right with you.” Helpfully, she added, “You can watch 28

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween ‘Law and Order’ in the meantime.” “Is it on Saturday night?” “It’s on all the time.” **** That was certainly true, as Vlad remembered from his own recent evenings at home. At home in Northern Virginia, that was. Back in Transylvania…why, Law and Order had been HIM! And no one had ever told him to go wait in the living room while she changed clothes. As that thought struck him, he raced back into her bedroom, pulled himself to his full height, so that his head reached her chin, and swept her into his arms. She struggled vainly against him until, looking only slightly upwards, he caught and held her gaze with his compelling eyes. As his sharp white teeth grew into fangs, he raised them towards her throat. He could feel it pulsating beneath them, in mingled terror and desire. Feebly, she raised her trembling hand to the exposed area a moment before… …before a taller, broader and much more impressive figure sailed in through the window. “What in Hell do you think you are doing here?” Count Vlad’s younger brother demanded. “What does it look like I am doing?” he replied, holding up the swooning female figure while hoping that his brother was suitably impressed. 29

Jackie Rose “It looks to me,” Count Victor answered, “as though you are about to bite a woman…nonconsensually! They will deport you for that, and good riddance. You need not think you can use my diplomatic immunity to protect you.” “And why is it any of your business, pray?” “Because I am responsible for good relations between our countries, and I won’t let you start an international incident here.” Looking down at his brother’s designated victim, Victor asked, “Are you all right, miss? Miss? MISS?” Her eyes blinked feebly as she became fully conscious again. “Yes, of course, thank you,” she said, with a sigh. Neither of the brothers could help noticing that she sounded distinctly disappointed. **** Needless to say, “disappointed” did not begin to cover it, where Ellen’s would-be mother-in-law was concerned. “You let your little brother come right in and walk all over you?” “Or fly all over me, anyway,” Vlad admitted mournfully. “Oh!” Mariutza threw her arms into the air so theatrically, you could practically hear the organ 30

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween music rising at the same time. “We must do something about that.” “Can we do it later?” he asked, slouching down in the red velvet armchair. “’Law and Order’ is on right now. It’s the really good episode where the prosecutor proves that the restaurant owner has just murdered his second wife, after he got away with killing the first one.” “I sold my soul to the devil, so my sons could have and give eternal life, and this is my reward” his mother muttered. “But at least sit up straight!” After trying for a moment, as always, he wound up slumping even more deeply. She could always make him feel guilty about the way he treated her…which was no mean feat, considering how he had behaved towards almost everyone else, without the least pang of remorse. **** As one of the first who had received the precious gift of Dracula’s dark kiss, Simona the former village maiden had done nothing to relieve his deep-seated sibling rivalry. After Count Vladimir himself had made her a vampire bride, she had gone over to Radu the Handsome without a century’s hesitation. Her first master could have taken some comfort in the fact that his younger brother had recently 31

Jackie Rose dumped her, along with her three sister spouses, for an official wife…that awful American girl who had made his followers into yet another whining minority. Alas, Simona seemed to have recovered, financially at least. She was now earning her own bread and plasma as a society musician. Things being how they were for her, health insurance was not a problem. As the Romanian ambassador, Victor was using his connections to get her booked at society functions. She was always especially popular for Halloween galas, but few were more glittering than this Happy Hallo-day embassy bash. In the spirit of the occasion, she was playing a selection of strictly secular fall-and-winter-season specials on the grand piano. Having concluded “Over the River and Through the Woods,” she was going on to “Winter Wonderland.” The music enhanced the cozy charm of the embassy’s Victorian reception room, with its wallpaper in a lavish pattern of flowers and stripes, surrounding the equally ornate stone mantel. The visitors, including the media, were ushered into this room to greet the ambassador and his honored guests. They included Constantin and Ingrid, the werewolf and his were-Maltese mate, who had come from Romania for the occasion. 32

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “Yes, Luther dear, we really are ‘only human’ right now, just as you said,” Ingrid was telling an obviously disappointed child. “But just you wait until they open the curtains later this evening. Then you will see why we must always be kind to animals, rather than throwing them in gas chambers or hacking them apart in slaughterhouses…” “And we will have cake and ice cream, too,” Countess Tiffany hastily added. “Devil’s food cake, of course. So it will be a really Happy Halloday.” Having overheard the conversation, the musician cast about hastily for some music that would lighten the mood. After rejecting several that featured Santa Claus…AKA Saint Nicholas…she finally launched into “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow.” Of course, it would be at least two months before it did any such thing, especially in Northern Virginia, but that was the best she could do. To her relief, she saw that the moppet was now standing before the First Lady, who held out a black cat to be petted. That poor little creature would have been mewing loudly in protest, if the First Lady had not promised to transform her into a reasonable facsimile of the young Jacqueline Kennedy later that night. The puss knew that her mistress could do it, having already turned her 33

Jackie Rose litter mates into Dolley Madison, Eleanor Roosevelt and Joseph Stalin. “Of course, you may touch little Midnight…but do it gently,” the First Lady instructed. “She will also have a special surprise for you later tonight. I am sure you will enjoy it, and she certainly will. She told me so herself! Of course,” she added, with her warmest smile, “She can only tell me things because I am a witch…but, as you know now, witches are your friends and black cats are, too. And banshees. And vampires.” This was her way of gently passing the child along to the next notable in the receiving line…namely, her son-in-law the vampire congressman and her daughter, the banshee. Her undead bodyguard Ylenia also beamed at the complement. “Are you really a vampire?” the child breathed. “Some of us prefer being called Undead Americans,” Rep. Zagorsky (D-CA) responded gently. “Many of us are war heroes, too. You might wind up serving right along with them, thanks to our new recruitment policy...’Don’t Ask, Don’t Bite.’ And for the UN-undead veterans, we have patriotic banshees to wail for them…like my wife here.” “You mean, the banshee do not steal their souls?” Luther asked, in some disappointment again. “I saw a rerun of ‘Charmed,’ where…” 34

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “We have all seen many unfair and untrue things,” the First Banshee answered firmly. “But it is a great honor to have the banshee wail for you. It means you were a war hero.” “Well, I guess so,” Luther answered. “My mother said that your father, the president, sends you to do it for his biggest contributors, even if they never fired a shot in their lives.” “I hope you watch reruns of ‘Angel,’ too,” the Ambassador interrupted hastily, before the president’s daughter had had time to get angry, which could have led to a screaming fit that would have shattered every window in Sheridan Circle. “Some people say that he looks a lot like me.” And he gazed down with his most soulful David Boreanaz stare. “But he shouldn’t do everything Buffy tells him.” “So where is your mother?” the count asked, obviously wishing that she would show up and wisk him away. “She’s over there looking for PFC Irving Loftig, the vampire World War II hero,” he said. “She wants to ask him about the Transylvanian undead underground. She teaches European history, so she loves that stuff.” “As we all do,” Count Victor assured him. “I know about European history, too,” Ylenia assured him, coming hastily from behind the First 35

Jackie Rose Lady. Obviously, she had decided that the best way of rescuing the president’s wife right now was by changing the subject. “Have you ever heard of Josef Stalin? I knew him, and he was a PIG!” As it always did when she mentioned the disgusting Russian dictator, her voice soared higher than she had intended. On this occasion, it was high enough to bring Luther’s mother to their side. “Finally!” Count Victor muttered, as he saw her coming. His obvious relief grew even greater as she firmly pulled her son away, but soon shrank again as she took the child’s place before him. “I wanted to thank you for rescuing me,” she said, in a tone that strongly suggested she did not want to do any such thing. “I am also looking forward to hearing you and your brother debate the Halloween question before for my students.” More brightly, she added, “Now I have another favor to ask. I teach European history, and I am so grateful for this opportunity to ask someone who really knows it. When you say that Chairman Stalin was a pig, are you talking about the HitlerStalin Pact?” “I am talking about HIM!” Ylenia retorted, her eyes turning as red as Comrade Stalin’s flag…or, alternatively, Simply Red by Elizabeth Arden, her own favorite hue. “He invited me to a dinner 36

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween party once, and I was so very flattered…until he threw orange peels and bread slices at me, right across the table! He was never anything but a Georgian peasant PIG!” “Perhaps you could come and talk to my students about that,” the teacher responded. “It is the kind of thing that youngsters are interested in. If nothing else, it will encourage them to use better table manners.” **** Mariutza Tepes was, as always, encouraging her eldest son to have better posture, as they raced through the white columns framing the embassy front door, with a flock of bats flying after them. Adding to her usual exasperation with him, he had halted before the entrance. “No one has invited us in,” he told her. “No one has to,” she answered, throwing her hands up, literally and figuratively both. “You are the rightful master of all Transylvania, this embassy included.” On this basis, he was able to rush inside, with his mother beside him and a host of vampires following after, now in their human form. And I do say “vampires” advisedly. No Undead Americans these, but the real McCoy (or, rather, Mirescu). They were shrieking as they 37

Jackie Rose raced through the entrance hall and into the reception room, with their red eyes blazing and their shrouds flying behind them. They had, indeed, come to Put the Hell Back in Halloween. Simona soon got back into the spirit, by dropping “Frosty the Snowman” cold, in favor of the “Danse Macabre,” while trying her best to make the perfectly-tuned grand piano sound like a screechy, scary old violin. At those sights and sounds, even the children trembled, as their parents dragged them towards the emergency exits. Only a few of the bolder ones, like Luther Reinecke, turned back to whisper with reverence, “Su-WEET!” He could do it for only a moment before his mother pulled him firmly towards the door. Even she felt compelled to stop, stunned, as Vlad Tepes loomed up before her. “Now do you believe me?” he demanded. “I am the true Vlad Tepes. I-AM-DRACULA! And I had the great pleasure of drinking your blood.” Less dramatically, he added, “Or trying to, anyway.” “You may very well think that you are,” she admitted, obviously fighting hard to keep her voice from shaking. “But all you are doing is frightening the children.” “That’s the whole idea!” he shrieked. “THAT is what Halloween is all about!” 38

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “Luther, you go home with Mrs. Turker,” she said firmly, pointing at a fellow teacher. To his disappointed wails of protest, she answered firmly, “Now!” As her son was dragged to safety, she stood bravely between him and the four shrieking vampires who hurled themselves towards her, their fiery eyes blazing and their crimson talons clawing the air. Staring back firmly at them, to keep their attention from Luther, she felt sure that she recognized one. “Aren’t you Ms. Marbury, the student teacher?” she asked. “Why, yes, Ms. Reinecke,” the girl answered, her eyes fading once again from Revlon Certainly Red to their natural blue and her matching talons to sensibly short fingernails, lightly painted with Revlon Beam of Pink. “I hope you gave me a good report. I mean, I know that I can only be there in the late afternoons, due to my handicapping condition…but I try my best then.” “You certainly know your history,” her supervisor assured her. “But you must be more assertive with the students and not let them get away with so much. Of course,” she added, glancing at her blood sisters, “not quite as assertive as they are.” “I will try harder to do that,” she promised. “Aargh!” her blood sisters snarled in reproach. 39

Jackie Rose “Aargh,” Ms. Marbury agreed, as her features turned red again. Even in her literally bloodthirsty state, she remembered that this would-be victim was writing her evaluation, after all. Accordingly, she led her companions away to greener pastures...or, in their case, redder ones. Turning back to the vampires’ master, Ellen Reinecke added, “You, sir, have made your point. If it makes you happy, you have won the War for Halloween. Now tell the children who you really are…because I am sure you are an Undead American of some kind, and they need to see that your people are their friends.” “Aargh!” charging back into the foyer, he clattered back up the ironwork stairs, where he seemed, for once, as tall, as his younger brother. Suddenly, those ridiculous black and orange crepe paper streamers above him did not look foolish at all. “I say it again!” he cried. “I-AM-DRACULA!” Now fully involved in the spirit, Simona’s piano screeched on. “He is Dracula!” Ms. Marbury and her fellow followers cackled in response. “I am sure you all BELIEVE…” Ellen Reinecke started to say. Her reasonable words were drowned out by the howling of all the wolves in all the hills between Washington and West Virginia, not to mention the National Zoo and the Wildlife Preserve. 40

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “Now do you believe me?” he demanded. “I believe, I believe!” she cried, careful to stay at the bottom of the steps, so she would not loom over him again. “Take me, Master!” Her words were almost drowned out…along with every other sound…by Maeve O’Neill Zagorsky’s shriek of ear-splitting, windowshattering rage. “You ruined our reception,” she howled, between her mindless fits of wailing. Rep. Zagorsky was pulling his banshee bride towards the nearest “emergency exit only” sign. Film buff that he was, he stopped long enough to murmur reverently, “It’s like ‘Miracle on 34th Street’…with Dracula instead of Santa Claus.” But Kris Kringle had never turned a reception into a riot. This Dracula did just that, when he led his followers in storming the reception room, tearing down the crepe paper as they came. “You!” he shouted at his brother. “You—traitor! You say you represent Romania, but I never gave you permission to do so.” “I never asked!” Count Victor shouted back, glaring down at him from over his muscular folded arms. “You do not rule Romania any longer, so I don’t even know how you got in here.” “Because he believed that he could!” Ellen Reinecke cried rapturously, at his left hand. Vlad 41

Jackie Rose at once decided against telling her that his mother was the one who had believed it. “Well, I believe he’d better get right out again, before I kick his scrawny little butt…as usual,” his brother retorted. “These people are my guests, which is more than I can say for him.” Enraged at this threat to their leader, the evil undead tried to rush the former Radu the Handsome. Since he was still Radu the totally buff as well, he had little trouble holding them off…or, rather, throwing them into the marble mantel, which was fortunately unlit. They bared their claws, raised their fangs, glared through their blood-red eyes and shrieked in mindless rage. “Radu, I’m your mother!” Mariutza cried, just in time to avoid the same fate. He pushed her to the side instead, ignoring her lamenting wail, “I sold my soul to the devil, so my sons could have and give eternal life, and this is my reward?” Having benefited from that very gift, the vampiric bodyguard Ylenia raced back to help her sire. By a happy coincidence, he was also the First Lady’s host at the moment and thus he was officially entitled to her aid. That left her with a clear conscience…for a vampire, anyway. So she used her martial arts training to hurl her coldblooded brothers and sisters against the stripedand-floral wallpaper and onto the gleaming floor. Fortunately or not, her professional partner 42

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween Matt Mader, who was also her spouse, was not there to aid her. This was supposed to be an occasion for the paranormal minorities to put their best feet…or paws…or claws…forward. She would have the opportunity to prove the PN’s could handle any crisis by themselves. The were-creatures helped her prove it. Eight feet turned into paws and claws in one moment, as Radu pulled down the curtain, letting the moonlight stream in. The towering Transylvanian male with his shaggy red hair was slowly transformed into an equally shaggy werewolf, while his slim, pale blond American bride turned into a fluffy little white were-Maltese. She soon proved once again, however, that that softness was only fur deep. As he bounded towards the nearest cluster of the evil undead and then leapt on them, his snarling and howling drowned out their shrieks of terror and rage. Ingrid echoed his growls with her yipping, as she jumped at their ankles. In vain, they tried to kick her away before she returned to the attack. Hearing the barking, Midnight jumped from her mistress’ arms and raced back into the fray. The First Witch could think of only one way to protect her little pet and cast her spell accordingly. A moment later, the young Jacqueline Kennedy stood in the black cat’s place. 43

Jackie Rose Noting the TV cameras that were taping at a frantic rate, she said in her softest, calmest, best boarding-school tones, “The Embassy of Romania was inspired by the fine Parisian townhouses of the 17th Century.” All the screeching, shattering, shrieking, snarling, howling, barking and architectural interpretation were soon drowned out by the sirens. Showing true American know-how, the ambassador’s lady had called the cops. Soon an entire fighter squadron’s worth of bats was flying away over the Washington rooftops, while a wolf and a Maltese raced out the door. The press followed in hot pursuit, until the creatures proved that they could outrun even their sound trucks. They were somewhat impeded by the little trick-or-treaters, who looked up at the batblackened sky to say, “Oh, wow!” and “Sweeeeeet!” By the time the police reached the embassy, the only beings they found there were a plump schoolteacher and a slim, elegant brunette who asked, in her best-bred breathless tones, “Is there a problem, officers?” **** “I’ve never done that before!” Tiffany exclaimed, as her black bat wings turned back into the glittery 44

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween black sleeves of her evening gown. They had landed safely in Glen Echo Park, where they hoped that no one would find them among the dark trees. “Aren’t you glad that I insisted on teaching you?” he demanded. “You thought it was too much of a stereotype.” “Can we fly back to the embassy this way?” she asked eagerly. “But what if someone sees us landing there?” “Then thank goodness…or whatever…for diplomatic immunity. Besides…it isn’t really a stereotype. More of an ethnic heritage. And we really SHOULD raise a little Hell on Halloween.” “That’s just what I was hoping for,” he assured her. “Part of me is rising already.” As though she had had any doubt, his hand guided hers to the portion of his anatomy that was doing so. It was, indeed, rising and hardening, until it resembled the tree truck he was leaning against. Using her entire body, she pressed him against it and fumbled to open the fly of his perfectly tailored tuxedo. At that point, she decided that love in the wild was just the thing…and if anyone caught them at it, they could always soar away again, preferably in the middle of the act. This particular stereotype was coming in very handy.

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Jackie Rose **** Constantin and Ingrid almost had more of a problem. Seeing the huge, howling creature loping down Massachusetts Avenue, the residents naturally called animal control. The officers started approaching him with due caution, ignoring, for a moment, the little white dog who was yipping frantically beside him. Fortunately for all concerned, the sun started rising at that moment. Soon their prey had vanished, and they were confronting a hulking young man and his slim blond wife, both in evening clothes. “Is there a problem, officers?” the man inquired. “Other than your genocidal policies, of course,” his companion snapped. “No problem at all, m’am,” they assured her. “I just wish that you were-creatures would wear dog tags, so we can take you home.” “Instead of throwing us into your gas chambers!” “Well, I am sure you would have had time to transform in our shelter, after the sun came up.” “Shelter? You call that…that gulag..a…” “Have a good evening, officers,” her husband hastily put in, as he pulled her away.

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I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween **** As for Jacqueline Kennedy, the current first lady was waiting anxiously beside her when the sun came up. Just as the svelte brunette was urging the gathering crowd to re-elect President O’Neill next year, she turned into an equally sleek black cat. Evelyn O’Neill immediately gathered her into her arms. The creature responded with a purr that was especially contented, since she had managed to keep wearing Jackie’s trademark triple strand of pearls. **** “I just wanted to know if you made it out all right,” Count Victor thought, rather grudgingly. “I’m glad you did.” “Me, too,” his older brother said silently in return. “I mean, I am pleased that you also survived.” “I am so glad that you are making it up with each other,” their mother’s mind broke in. “That is all a mother really hopes for, in return for selling her soul to the devil so that…” “We already know, mother,” her younger son thought rather loudly. “Now will you please leave us alone?” “Well!” she exclaimed. “At least tell your 47

Jackie Rose brother to sit up straight.” At that point, Countess Tiffany came on the psychic party line. “Now that you are talking to each other, you can learn from each other, too,” she enthused. “I mean, we should all try to keep our ethnic heritage, even while we join in…” “You get off, too,” her husband snapped. “This is a private conversation.” “Well!” “Now you hear them, Tiffany,” her mother-inlaw thought at her mournfully. “This is the way they have always treated me. And I know that my daughters-in-law have always despised me, because I don’t want them following their careers. But if they don’t make me any more sons-in-law who can make other daughters-in-law in turn…well, what will happen to our ethnic heritage then?” “My mother says the same thing! But not about vampires, of course.” “Don’t we all,” her mother-in-law sighed. **** Feeling dismally sure that his mother could somehow see him as well as overhearing his conversations, Vlad Tepes sat up briefly in the overstuffed sofa. He even braced himself against 48

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween the arm rest, to keep him propped up that way. It was too well padded, though, and he soon sunk comfortably down again. The entire living room gave him a feeling of comfort, with the bright red sofa seeming even more inviting against the equally cheerful yellow walls and draperies. The white bookshelf beside it seemed just as homelike, crammed with history texts. His hostess was sitting opposite him, in a matching armchair. “Come over here,” he ordered silently. He patted the seat beside him, in a way that he hoped would make his invitation clear, even if his mental powers failed to do it. “I am doing it on a strictly consensual basis,” she assured him, as she took her place at the other end of the couch. He reached out and pulled her to him. It was obviously still consensual when he placed his lips against her pulsing throat, above the green turtleneck jersey. She was especially glad to have all those turtlenecks in her wardrobe now, to hide the evidence of this evening’s adventure…even though she was pretty sure that, when she insisted on changing to night school teaching, her students would get the message. “You will not have to teach anything,” he assured her out loud, reading her thoughts. “You 49

Jackie Rose will be my bride.” “Your WIFE,” she responded, drawing back. “Very well,” he said, with a sigh. “My wife. But you’ll have to tell my mother.” “Or she’ll do WHAT to me? Make me wear scratchy tags and talk to telemarketers?” “She made that part up,” he assured her. “No one would put up with that.” It was not, she thought, the sort of thing a vampire was supposed to say, let alone the real Dracula. But in the next moment he exceeded her expectations, by pressing his lips against her throat again and then licking her neck. This must be vampire foreplay, she realized, and it was even better than the other kind. “You taste of sauerbraten,” he whispered, as his tongue stroked away. “Beef, onions, spices and the red wine vinegar sauce. And you taste of strudel…apples, vanilla, sugar and cinnamon. I will drink them all in your blood, and they will be delicious. You must be a wonderful German cook.” “I am from Wisconsin,” she reminded him. “We are the best German cooks of all. But will I taste you, too?” “Lamb stew with onions and garlic,” he assured her. “Then little cakes with honey and walnuts. I can afford the best Romanian chefs to make them.” 50

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween “You should pay them double,” she said. “I mean, drinking blood and having dinner at the same time…no wonder vampires are impossible to resist. Who could ask for anything more? “Who indeed?” he asked, as he reached up for a gourmet feast he could literally sink his teeth into. **** “I hope you are sitting up straight,” she said, “Since you are calling me up on the telephone now, instead of sending your thoughts to me, you obviously no longer seem to care about acting like a prince…but you could at least try to look like one. That is,” she added bitterly, “if your FIANCEE will let you.” “I always try to sit up straight,” the producer answered, in some confusion. “And I am not engaged to anyone right now…three brides were enough for me…at different times, in my case. You must have confused me with someone else.” “With my son,” she said, in embarrassment. “I am so sorry for the mistake.” Her crooning voice held the promise of all the ways she was willing to make up for her error. Those techniques would even include some consensual fang action, which he would probably enjoy much more than she did. With a shudder, she realized that he would probably taste of 51

Jackie Rose whiskey and tobacco, since he had smelled that way. While lung disease was not a problem for her, nausea still was. “How can I help you?” she asked, hoping that he did not want her to do it by providing the dark kiss. “Well, you very much impressed me with your appearance on our ‘Dueling Duo’ talk show. You seemed to know your material very well…although I am sure you had time to learn it. I hope we can take advantage of it by hiring you as our technical consultant for another project.” “Another talk show?” she asked, always glad to promote the cause. “Actually, it is my first made-for-TV movie,” he said nervously, and she could almost see him rubbing his hand over his bald head. “It will be very sympathetic and also very timely…the story of two vampire cowboys in the Old West. We are calling it ‘Brokevein Mountain.’” “What an original idea!” she said dryly. After opening her mouth to say that she would have no part in such a vulgar exploitation, she quickly closed it again. Now that her son was spending so much time with his future wife, she herself was all alone in this big house. It was a tribute to the violence of the times that the prospect frightened even her, when she was supposed to be the one who 52

I'm a Vampire…at War on Halloween terrified others. “What a wonderful idea!” she exclaimed instead. “I hope we can meet together to talk it over in person. We certainly did…and we still do…have people in your Wild West…and did you know that during the cattle round-ups, many of our cowboys resorted to beef blood, to save time and manpower?” “We’ve got to use that scene!” he said. “I know you’ve got a lot more great stories to tell me…and I’d love to meet you at the da Vinci Café. Do you know how to find it?” Indeed she did, as she assured him. The Vienna, Virginia eatery was, in her experience, just as good as anything in Vienna, Austria. What’s more it was easy for anyone to find, behind its lace curtains in the little shopping center off the Maple Avenue main street, on Glyndon St. The charming, courteous staff would certainly be able to serve her a blood-red steak there. What’s more, they would do it with as much enthusiasm as though she had ordered the specialty of the day. So considering everything, at least for someone in her position…an empty bat’s nester, as it were…whiskey and tobacco would no longer taste so bad, after all.

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About the Author

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iving in Northern Virginia, Jackie Rose indulges her passion for history by touring restored colonial homes. A resulting newspaper story on historical re-enactors led to a Virginia Press Association first prize. This was the first of five VPA prizes she earned during her ten years of feature writing for the area’s weekly newspapers. Her husband David shares her love for history, cruising, Walt Disney World and their son Frank and daughter-in-law, Susan. He also supports her other hobbies: working out with Jazzercise and buying the latest Vera Bradley pattern handbags. She shares that fashion passion with Tiffany Golden, the heroine of “I’m a Vampire in the War on Halloween.” It is the first in the series of Humor best-sellers that began with “I’m Undead and I Vote.”